


hey hey did you know

by starrie_skies



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, Barely any Comfort, Depression, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kinda, Lowercase, Major Character Undeath, Minor Original Character(s), Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Virtual Reality, slow updates i am so sorry, this got dark fast, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 12:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrie_skies/pseuds/starrie_skies
Summary: and voices fill the room, louder and louder, and now there's blood on the floor but it's a horrible mixture of pink and red and everybody's laughing at her and she covers her ears and prays the ceiling will fall and kill them all.or: tsumugi shirogane doesn't want to see the real world.





	hey hey did you know

**Author's Note:**

> they had found a corpse in the bathroom  
> inside your teachers home 
> 
> or: tsumugi shirogane wonders.
> 
>  
> 
> title and notes are both from through me to you by ferry

 

tsumugi shirogane wonders. she thinks, and wonders, and watches in a detached state of amusement.  
  
what a joke. she's a joke. they're a joke. the masses laugh, and she smiles, and there's nobody behind her eyes, and her smile is as empty as her house.  
  
she's filled by the flashing of the screen. she stares at her skin, and imagines an outpour of pink flowing from beneath a rock. red is such an ugly color. she doesn't like seeing an outpour of red, so she closes her eyes, and imagines she's back in the world she built.  
  
she hasn't left her room in a week, and idly she checks her tablet. the danganronpa logo greets her, and she turns the tablet off.  
  
not worth checking. the only emails she gets anymore are group gatherings. the first wave of people have been approved for leave- that was the only email she'd read in a month- but she can't remember who right now. some of them, she thinks. only a few. they're still fucked up. recovering.  
  
recovering from her.  
  
people say if you don't laugh, you'll cry, but tsumugi doesn't have enough energy to do either. she stares at the ceiling and idly wonders how many people want her dead. she should ask the detective if it was satisfying. was it? maybe. his satisfaction was something she expected, something she made.  
  
it doesn't make her feel better.  
  
it doesn't make her feel anything.  
  
the others are forced to go to therapy. the only one she's seen was the adventurer. he stopped by two weeks ago while he was leaving. he talked. she didn't. he said goodbye. she didn't.  
  
existence is tiring. she steals the oxygen from the air unfairly. she stole their lives for her amusement. it's not funny. it's funny to the audience, though. they laugh at the rock that crushed her, the piano that crushed the pianist, the tears the detective shed, and they laugh at the survivor's hatred for her.  
  
she doesn't go on forums anymore.  
  
she's hungry. she's been having meals delivered, but they're late again.  
  
she leaves her room. she knows what a therapist would say to that; she knows that if her sister was there she'd be proud. but even if her sister hadn't signed the form the second she turned eighteen, even if her sister hadn't died on national tv, she wouldn't be able to face her.  
  
she walks down the hall and she wonders.  
  
what if she was just a participant? not the mastermind, but a player. she would have died in the first chapter, but would that be better than this? possibly.  
  
she approaches the kitchen.  
  
voices. voices voices voices people talking they're in the kitchen of course they're in the kitchen. she decides she'll just starve.

unfortunately, her body isn't as rational, and now she's having trouble breathing and her hands are shaking and she thinks she's crying-  
  
_how troublesome_  
  
-and all of a sudden, she's not there. she's somebody else, standing next to her mess of a body, and she's staring them all in the face. and blood trickles down the side of the adventurer's head-  
  
"shirogane?"  
  
-she hates her name, don't say her name, she wants to leave it in the dust crushed under the rock laying in a puddle of pink blood like her like she should be-  
  
no. calm down. calm down you're freaking out over nothing. just leave nobody has to know you were there.  
  
"shirogane!"  
  
she wants to get up, but her body isn't listening, so all she can do is make herself smaller and smaller until she feels her bones might snap into pieces and she's left laying in a puddle of red blood.  
  
"listen to me, okay? you're having a panic attack, just try to breath."  
  
panic attack? she shouldn't have panic attacks, she knows what she's doing, she's in control. she is the god of this universe.  
  
she was the god of this universe. until she wasn't, and yellow eyes broke the fantasy, the fantasy she wanted to die with.

"open your eyes."  
  
she doesn't want to open her eyes. she's never wanted to open her eyes. but she does. she sees messy green hair, that by all accounts should be covered in blood. blood that she drew from a wound that was made to continue a game that nobody else wanted to play.  
  
she wants to close her eyes again.  
  
she settles for looking down at her hands and letting her face be covered with her hair.  
  
"how long have you been here?"  
  
a different voice, a more accusatory one, from a cold assassin who was forced to love for a romance plotline.  
  
tsumugi doesn't know, and she intends to voice that, but her voice doesn't work, so she simply shrugs and hides her face from the world. masterminds don't cry. not for real.

"i thought she was dead! how disappointing!"  
  
the leader speaks.  
  
"so flat-ass cosplayer decided to show herself!"  
  
the inventor jests.  
  
and voices fill the room, louder and louder, and now there's blood on the floor but it's a horrible mixture of pink and red and everybody's laughing at her and she covers her ears and prays the ceiling will fall and kill them all.

she can vaguely hear and see the adventurer shooing everybody away, but she won't uncover her ears. she doesn't want to hear.  
  
her hands are pulled away from her ears, and hands land gently on her wrists. her first instinct is to pull away, but she's too tired, so she just goes limp and pretends like she's not there. she hears him say something, distantly, but she's surrounded by fog. he stands, and she has no choice but to stand with him, and they walk along the hall together. and she doesn't know why he's with her.  
  
and so she asks.  
  
"why?"  
  
"why what?"  
  
"why are you here with me? why not just leave me?"  
  
"you deserve a second chance."  
  
"i killed you. i killed you, kaede, ryoma, tojo, chabashira, yonaga, shinguuji, iruma, gokuhara, ouma, momota, kiibo, and i might as well have killed harukawa, yumeno, and saihara."  
  
the adventurer pauses.  
  
"you made a mistake. and you deserve a chance to recover. if you don't take it, you can be left. but maybe consider it, okay?"  
  
they're in front of her door now, and so he leaves, and she walks inside, and she falls on the bed and wonders.  
  
and she speaks, but there's nobody there to hear.  
  
"i'm sorry."  
  
she is. she's not. she is. who's to say? she hasn't felt anything recognizable since being lifted out of the pod.  
  
but now, as she looks at her still-shaking hands, she wonders if what she did was worth it.


End file.
